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Cousland's Corruption	By : Brostani Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 9359 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Dragon Age series, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Warning for animal violence/cruelty/death in this chapter.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

—Robert Frost
When Aedan Cousland was ten, his life changed irrevocably.
Things might have gone another way. During his first hunt with his father, his brother Fergus, and several other nobles of Highever, the stag they were hunting managed to elude them.
If he had turned right with the other hunters, staying with the pack until they gave up the stag for lost, that first hunt would have been an uneventful day. His life would have gone on as expected until the day Fergus left for Ostagar, when the massacre of Aedan's remaining family and his rescue by the Grey Warden Duncan set a story in motion that would end with nineteen-year-old Aedan Cousland, acting Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, sacrificing his life to slay the archdemon Urthemiel and save Thedas from the Fifth Blight. He would be mourned and then remembered, his name forever recorded alongside such luminaries as Corin and Garahel.
This is not that story. In this story, he turned left.

Aedan looked around warily, trying to catch a glimpse of the stag. They had originally planned on a fox hunt, as it was midwinter, but when they had spotted the magnificent red hart—highly unusual in midwinter—Aedan's father had declared it a sign, and abandoned the foxes in favor of this new larger prey. Aedan had been lagging behind the rest of the hunting party, accompanied only by his beloved mabari puppy Ardal, and when he saw a set of faint hoofprints leading away from the direction in which everyone else had ridden, they were all already out of earshot. He reached for his new hunting horn to alert the others, only to grasp at empty space; it must have fallen from his hip at some point along the ride. After a brief moment of indecision, he rode off following the stag.
At the time he had been hoping to take the stag himself, showering himself with glory in his first hunt. Now Aedan was reconsidering the wisdom of his choice. He'd ridden a long way away, he was armed with only a bow, and Ardal was not large enough yet to properly defend him if he were attacked by some other animal, such as a bear or a wolf.
As it happened, bears or wolves would not be the problem he faced. He caught a glimpse of the stag through the trees and urged his horse onwards faster. A large root lay under a drift of snow, unbeknownst to either Aedan or his horse, and when the horse caught his hoof on the root both he and Aedan went down...hard.

Aedan blinked back to semi-consciousness, wondering why he felt such pain and difficulty getting air. He opened his eyes fully and saw a mass of silent, still-cooling horseflesh lying atop his body. His horse had fallen on top of him, and seemingly it had hit the ground in such a way that it had died instantly or nearly so. Aedan was not so lucky. Not only was the pressure of the horse on his chest making it hard to breathe, but he felt as if something inside had ruptured or broken. Maybe several somethings. He tried to crawl out from under the horse, but the blinding pain he felt when trying to move sparked whiteness behind his eyes, then nothing. As he lay there, his blood slowly staining the white snow, Ardal licked his face and whimpered. He refused to leave his master alone, but no help appeared to be coming. He barked and howled for aid as best he could in his high-pitched puppy tones, but the winter wind whipped past loudly, drowning him out. Still he continued, hoping to bring help for his young master.

Aedan awoke in a land of green. Green fog hung in the air, and large rocks floated in the distance. He had the sense that he had been here before, but couldn't remember exactly when.
"You have indeed been here before, Aedan."
Aedan looked up sharply at the voice, wondering at the painlessness of the movement. Hadn't he been hurt...?
"You are in the Fade, Aedan," said the man. He looked and sounded kind of like Aedan's older brother, Fergus. The man spoke in a friendly voice, and Aedan felt instinctively that he seemed trustworthy. "This is the land of dreams. In here, you will not feel the pain of your body."
"So I'm okay now?" Aedan asked.
"I'm afraid not, Aedan. Outside of this realm, you are still dying, and if you die in the real world, your spirit will be forever trapped in here."
"...I'm dying?" Aedan sniffled a little at the idea, battling tears. He was almost a man and wouldn't cry, men didn't cry, but...he was also only ten years old! He didn't want to die!
"You are dying...but you don't have to." The man smiled gently, infusing his voice with comfort and kindness, and Aedan was too distraught to notice that the smile never reached his eyes, which shared Fergus' warm brown color but had a purplish tinge. Around them, the green fog took on a pinkish shade. "I can help you, but only if you let me."
"I don't want to die!" Aedan cried out. "But...how do I let you help me? What do I need to do?"
"I am trapped in this realm, like you will be if you die. I can't do anything here, but in the real world, I can heal you. If you let my spirit come back into your body with you, I can save you. Aedan, have you ever heard of the spirit healers?"
Aedan shook his head mutely.
"We are a kind of mage, who can heal even the worst wounds using our magic. I am...an exceptionally powerful one, so I can bring you back even from the brink of death."
"You're a mage?" Aedan looked at him with the beginnings of suspicion. "But...Aldous said that mages can be dangerous, and not to trust them. Some of them might be blood mages or abominations."
"Do I seem dangerous?" the man asked gently. The pink fog swirled around them more thickly now. Aedan hadn't realized it before, but he looked so much like Fergus now, he couldn't imagine not trusting him. It was almost like his big brother was here protecting him. In fact, he looked exactly like Fergus. Was he Fergus? Aedan suddenly knew this was indeed his big brother, and felt a wave of warmth and unconditional trust flow into his heart.
"Besides, if you are here in the Fade as you are now—conscious, not truly dreaming—that means you have to be a mage too."
Aedan felt his heart stop. "I'm...a mage?" He knew that mages were removed from their family and sent off to the Circle Tower. A year ago, a friend of his had confided in him that he could make fire from his hands, and two weeks later he was gone, taken by the Templars to the Circle of Magi. Aedan didn't want to leave his parents, or Oriana, or Ardal, or his friends.
Fergus nodded sadly. "You are, little brother, and if anyone finds out, they will send you off to the Circle. If you take me back with you and let me in, though, I can also help you control your magic so that you are never discovered. You will get to stay with your family. You can stay with me, and Father, and Mother, and Ardal."
This all sounded good to Aedan. Maybe too good to be true... a small voice whispered in his head, but it soon dissipated. He seemed to almost remember something, something very important that Mother Mallol once talked about...it was about demons? Abomi-somethings? But the more he tried to remember it, the more the warm pink fog seemed to reach even into his mind, and he found himself contentedly letting it go. It was Fergus...of course he trusted him to do anything. He wasn't sure why Fergus was here in the dream world, talking about being a mage, but if he was, he must have had a good reason for it.
"I want to not die and to stay with you and Ardal and everyone," Aedan said sadly. "Will you help me do that, Fergus? If you do, I'll let you come back with me."
Fergus gave Aedan a broad smile. Somehow it made him look less like Fergus, but Aedan knew it was still his beloved older brother, and he trusted him with everything that he was. Fergus would make everything better. Everything was tinted pink, and it felt wonderful.
"We have to do this properly, little brother," Fergus said. "Do you, Aedan Maric Cousland, hereby vow to allow me to enter the physical world through you, allow me in to your innermost self, and give me full control of your body, your mind, your magic, and your soul? Will you give everything you are to me, Aedan?"
Aedan wasn't quite sure what all that meant, but he knew Fergus would never do anything to hurt him, so he nodded. "Yes, Fergus, I'll give you everything. I want to have you inside me."
Fergus gave a warm, rich bark of laughter. It didn't really sound like Fergus, but it definitely sounded like he was laughing unexpectedly at something he found very funny, and it put Aedan at ease. When he spoke again, his voice had a dark, hot tinge to it that Aedan had never heard before.
"Don't worry, my sweet, innocent little brother, you will."

Aedan opened his eyes. The pain was much worse, but it suddenly went away in a wave of the same pink warmth that he remembered from his dream. He suddenly felt a surge of physical strength in him, and with a great heave of his arms he pushed the horse to the side, leaving his body free. He looked down, and part of him was horrified to see, through the tears in his clothes, the great mottled dark spots, the mangled flesh, and the broken bones protruding from the skin. But even as he watched, the bones slid back in, knitting themselves together as the flesh and skin healed over; the dark spots dissipated; and the dull aches he could still feel dissipated. He stood up, and when he smiled, Aedan could feel that it wasn't quite his own smile, but that was okay. Fergus was him and he was Fergus, and he felt warm; everything was going to be okay.
Suddenly he heard, or maybe felt, Fergus' voice in his head. "I should tell you that though I appear and sound like him, I am not Fergus Cousland," he said. Aedan vaguely felt like he should feel betrayed or surprised at this, but he felt so warm and happy, he couldn't really bring himself to worry. So the man who looked like Fergus and sounded like Fergus and whom he trusted like he trusted Fergus—really, he trusted him more than Fergus, now that he thought about it—wasn't Fergus. Whoever he was, Aedan shared his body with him and loved him and would do anything for him.
"If you're not Fergus," Aedan said aloud, "then who are you?"
"I am Xebenkeck, called the Undying. You are mine, Aedan Cousland, and you may call me Master."
Aedan felt a warm happiness at that. He'd never belonged to someone before, and he knew he would do anything for his new Master. All feelings he'd ever felt for anyone or anything else paled. If Master wanted him to do something, he would do it, no matter what it was, and feel joyous that he could please his Master.
A low growl caught his attention, and he saw Ardal backing away, hackles raised and teeth bared.
"What's wrong, Ardal? What's wrong, boy? It's me, Aedan."
He felt Master smile. "I think he doesn't like me, little brother."
Aedan frowned. How could Ardal not like Master? Master was perfect. Everyone should love Master.
"This may be a problem. If your Ardal reacts like this to you around other people, they may realize that something has changed. If they find me within you, they will know that you are a mage, and they will send you away, or even kill you. You will need to do something about your little Ardal, and do it now. And as a bonus, we can benefit from it as well."
Aedan thought for a second, and suddenly he realized what Master wanted him to do. He loved Ardal, but his love for, his worship of, Master was so much more, that he never hesitated for a second. He pulled his bow from his back—it and his arrows had miraculously avoided breakage in the fall—and nocked an arrow, aiming it carefully at Ardal's throat. The mabari stopped growling, cocked his head at Aedan, and whimpered.
The arrow shot home, and the dog fell without a sound. Aedan watched the dog shake and twitch as he died, blood spurting out of the wound, winding gracefully through the air and becoming a sparkling flow of bright power that went straight into his chest. It felt hot under his skin and good, like lying out in the sun on a bright summer's day. He felt it merge with some deep inner part of him, joining it and changing it, and suddenly he felt strong, powerful, like he could do anything. He knew this was blood magic, and the Chantry forbade it because it was evil, but if his Master did it, clearly the Chantry was wrong and blood magic was good and right. If they were wrong about this, what else were they wrong about?
"Everything," Master said. "They would have you fear magic, fear demons, say that they are evil and will tempt you to do what is wrong...but I am a magician and a demon—the most powerful of desire demons, even—and am I evil, little brother? Have I tempted you to do wrong?"
Aedan scoffed at the idea. Master? Evil? Wrong? Clearly the Chantry knew nothing, because Master was perfect and everything that was good and right in the world. If he was a desire demon, then clearly desire demons were the best, truest beings in this world, and his Master was the best even among them.
Master chuckled. "I have always thought so. We desire demons merely give people what they want...what they desire. And what every human ultimately desires is pleasure."
Pleasure?
"There are many kinds of pleasure, but my personal favorites are sex and power."
Sex? Like when the horses mate?
"Very much like that, my innocent little brother. However, those horses are usually male and female, whereas I prefer sex between males only. It is purer, without the burden of conceiving a child. Sucking, fucking, raping, rutting. All are pleasures I will shortly introduce you to. As for power, very little is as pleasurable as having someone totally within your control, someone willing to kill and die for you, someone willing to do anything for you."
Aedan felt joy at being able to give Master this pleasure. He would do anything for Master, so that should make him happy!
"It does indeed, little brother. It does indeed. Now, we should probably clean this up and get back to the others." He watched as Ardal's shriveled, bloodless body was consumed by pink flame, leaving only ashes that blew away in the wind. He knew Ardal's spirit must be happy, having died to please Master.
Aedan suddenly felt knowledge flood him, of how he would act when he met the others. He would tell them that he had chased the stag, that Ardal had run off and that Aedan had been so determined to chase his mabari that he wasn't looking where he was going and was thrown from his horse. He had been thrown clear, and was scraped up (some minor scrapes instantly appeared on his body and face) but was physically okay. He had no idea where Ardal had gone, and hoped dearly that he would come home.
Aedan laughed, and it was an ugly laugh, a laugh of triumph and smugness at how easy it would be to fool the others. He knew this was Master's feeling, and therefore it was how Aedan felt too. They were beneath him, because he had Master's favor and they did not. He merely had to act like he had been before to fool them, and eventually Master would control them all. Even when he did, though, Aedan knew he would be Master's favorite, since he was the only one to truly give everything to Master.
"Always, little brother."
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Cousland's Corruption